


Movement

by djaqsscarlett



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 12:16:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18498796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djaqsscarlett/pseuds/djaqsscarlett
Summary: Eudora’s a ballerina, and Diego is an admirer of her talent // inspired by @detectivediego’sballerina au





	1. the letter

Diego, despite having a ballerina mother, knows nothing about ballet.

He just likes how graceful it all is. His mom convinced him to go to the latest recital to see the new dancers, and because she’s his mom and he loves her, he agreed.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the one brown ballerina. She was so graceful, her movements looked effortless (though he knew they weren’t; he’d helped massage Mom’s feet when they hurt after dancing).

He leaned over to his mom. “What’s her name?” he asked, resisting the urge to point; it’s rude, and he didn’t want a lecture.

“Which one?”

“The brown one, what’s her name?”

Ah. She should have guessed; he’d always wanted to know about people who looked like him growing up. “Eudora Patch. She’s very good. She’s the first ballerina of color at the Umbrella Ballet Academy.”

Diego nodded, not taking his eyes off her. “She’s really graceful.”

Grace chuckled; Diego looked awestruck and it was very cute.

 

* * *

After the recital, Diego wanted to meet her. But that would be _weird_ , and he’s not about to throw the last name around to get access. Dad doesn’t want anything to do with him, he shouldn’t use that name. And he didn’t want to ask mom to introduce them, cause that would just be _pathetic_ , and it’s weird, right? It’s weird. He doesn’t even know her, he just thinks she’s really graceful and he just-

She probably has plenty of friends anyway. But god, she’s so graceful, and talented, and it’s stupid. It’s stupid, right?

He’ll write her a letter, saying hi. He’ll have Mom look over it, make sure it doesn’t come off as creepy.

* * *

 

“Hey, someone sent you a letter.” Bethany said, holding it out to Eudora. “Weird how they sent it here, right?”

“Yeah.” Eudora murmured, taking it from her and putting it in her bag. She’d read it at home, after rehearsals. She needed to be ready for their next recital.

* * *

She’d been cuddling on her couch with her cat Freckles before she remembered the letter. She grabbed her bag and looked at the return address; it just said Diego, no last name. _’Weird’_ she thought, opening it.

_Dear Ms. Patch,_

_I saw you at the Swan Lake recital, and I just wanted to say that I thought you were really, really good. That’s not the right word, but I can’t think of a better one and you were just really graceful. You made the dancing look effortless when it’s really hard and you have a real talent. I know you know that, obviously, but you kind of blew me away with how amazing you were._

_I’m sorry, I really hope this doesn’t come off as weird. I realize it might be a bit weird, but I just wanted you to know that I think your dancing is pretty great, and I’m glad there’s finally a ballerina of color at the Academy. It’s been a long time coming._

_And please don’t read into any of this, I just wanted to express my admiration of your work. That’s all._

_Signed,_

_Diego Hargreeves_

Her eyes widened when she saw the last name. _Hargreeves_ , aka one of the adopted sons of the largest benefactor at the Academy. She grabbed her phone, Googling his name to find out which one he was.

And damn, okay. He was the Latino one with the scars and the deep brown eyes. And he thought her dancing was good. He’d been impressed by her dancing. _’No Dora, stop it! Now is not the time to get distracted by pretty boys! Even if they do have gorgeous eyes’_ she thought, turning her phone off and dropping the letter on the table. She tried not to think about the letter or Diego for the rest of the evening.


	2. motivations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego is more of a romantic, and Eudora is suspicious of his motives.

Diego started going to the ballet regularly. He told himself it wasn’t _just_ to see Ms. Eudora Patch dance, cause that would be weird. No, he told himself it was to see the graceful dancing, and to have an excuse to spend more time with his mom.

And that excuse worked, until Grace didn’t want to go to every single recital that Ms. Patch was in. So he went alone, managed to score front row seats one time. It was worth every penny cause god, she was even more amazing up close. Yeah, he’s biased as hell but he thought she was the best ballerina. He was the first to stand up and give her a standing ovation, despite the anxiety in his stomach.

He wanted to buy a bouquet of flowers and give them to her cause she deserved them, but they’d never even met and she might not want them and god. It’s hard, when you want to show your honest admiration of someone’s talent but it can be misconstrued as romance.

Not that he didn’t-

Well.

If he was honest with himself, he thought she was a beautiful woman. Too beautiful for him. Too graceful for him, he didn’t deserve someone like that. He didn’t even know her, maybe he’s just projecting what he wants her to be onto her. Maybe she’s horrible in real life. Maybe-

But what if she’s not? What if she’s nice? Maybe he could meet her and maybe she wouldn’t think he’s weird. Maybe she’d like him. Maybe...but that’s stupid. Everyone thought he was weird, even Mom.

* * *

That night, alone in his apartment, he did what he did best: he got out a pen, and crafted another letter.

_Dear Ms. Patch,_

_If you want me to stop writing to you, just tell me, and I will. But I just think that you are spectacular. I hope this doesn’t come off as weird cause I mean it sincerely, but I sat in the front row when you played Juliet, and I thought you did so well. I’ll admit I don’t know that much about ballet, but I watched my mother growing up and I know it’s not easy._

_Are you taking-_

He stopped. He couldn’t ask her if she was taking care of her feet. Of course she was, every ballerina took care of her feet. But he was just worried. He remembers when his mom’s feet would bleed from dancing so much. How she would tie her ballet shoes so tight they’d leave marks in her skin.

He decided to leave it in. Might as well show all his cards. He didn’t know how to hide his heart, never did. He started again.

_Are you taking care of yourself? I know that’s probably a bad question to ask but I know how hard it is, and I imagine it’s even harder for ballerinas of color._

He stopped again. Was it too soon, to tell her something about himself? Something no one else knew? Maybe it was. This was only his second letter to her. He wasn’t sure if she’d even liked the first one. Maybe she’d thrown it away. “Be brave, Diego. Be brave. Emotion is not weakness. Your heart is not weakness.” he whispered to himself. It was hard, shaking off his dad’s conditioning. Therapy helped, but he had to do most of the work himself.

He took a deep breath. 

_I used to want to be a ballerina. Thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, but sadly I don’t have the courage. There aren’t many male ballerinas, certainly not ones with scars and brown skin._

_But, anyway. Back to you. I would never want to make you uncomfortable, which is why I don’t put my last name on the envelopes. Would never want to hurt your career. You’re just so radiant, onstage. You’re so strong and graceful and god, it’s a privilege to see you dance, it really, truly is. It makes me so happy, to see you dance. I know you must work so hard, and I know I already asked you this but I hope you’re taking care of yourself. I know how toxic ballet culture can be. I would hate for you to get caught up in that._

_Would it be okay, if I sent you flowers? I can do it anonymously, you’d never know they were from me. You just deserve flowers. What are your favorite kind? If that’s horribly inappropriate, I apologize profusely. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Never, ever feel indebted to me. My dad doesn’t care about me or what I do, and the feeling is mutual. Pretend I don’t have the name I do if it makes you more comfortable._

He stopped. Was this too much heart? He didn’t know her. She’s a stranger. His relationship with her is nonexistent, and here he is, writing a fucking love letter. She might be incredibly uncomfortable with the attention.

But he needed her to know. It was selfish, but he needed her to know.

_You don’t have to write back. I won’t do anything unless you say it’s okay. I’m content just admiring your talent and watching you dance._

_Signed,_

_Diego H_

He folded up the letter and stuffed it in an envelope, sealing it before he lost his nerve.

* * *

“Eudora! Looks like you’ve got an admirer!” Lindsey teased, dropping the letter next where she was stretching.

Eudora grabbed it, looking at the address. Diego, of course. She wasn’t sure how she felt about receiving another letter from him. In the month since she’d gotten his first letter, she’d done her research. He kept to himself, didn’t really give interviews but of the ones he had given? Sounded like a bitter man, who hated his father. He never went into details of _why_ he hated his father, but he did. What if she was just some pawn to him, to get back at his old man? It would work; Reginald Hargreeves had to be a racist if it took him this long to let a ballerina of color into his Academy. She could only imagine how he’d treated his adopted non-white children.

She put it in her bag, and focused on her work.

* * *

After dinner that night, she finally worked up the nerve to open the letter.

_Dear Ms. Patch,_

_If you want me to stop writing to you, just tell me, and I will. But I just think that you are spectacular. I hope this doesn’t come off as weird cause I mean it sincerely, but I sat in the front row when you played Juliet, and I thought you did so well. I’ll admit I don’t know that much about ballet, but I watched my mother growing up and I know it’s not easy._

_Are you taking care of yourself? I know that’s probably a bad question to ask but I know how hard it is, and I imagine it’s even harder for ballerinas of color._

_I used to want to be a ballerina. Thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, but sadly I don’t have the courage. There aren’t many male ballerinas, certainly not ones with scars and brown skin._

_But, anyway. Back to you. I would never want to make you uncomfortable, which is why I don’t put my last name on the envelopes. Would never want to hurt your career. You’re just so radiant, onstage. You’re so strong and graceful and god, it’s a privilege to see you dance, it really, truly is. It makes me so happy, to see you dance. I know you must work so hard, and I know I already asked you this but I hope you’re taking care of yourself. I know how toxic ballet culture can be. I would hate for you to get caught up in that._

_Would it be okay, if I sent you flowers? I can do it anonymously, you’d never know they were from me. You just deserve flowers. What are your favorite kind? If that’s horrible inappropriate, I apologize profusely. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Never, ever feel indebted to me. My dad doesn’t care about me or what I do, and the feeling is mutual. Pretend I don’t have the name I do if it makes you more comfortable._

_You don’t have to write back. I won’t do anything unless you say it’s okay. I’m content just admiring your talent and watching you dance._

_Signed,_

_Diego H_

She swallowed hard. “Well, guess he doesn’t care about his dad, huh Freckles? Unless he’s lying. But, would he lie? Is he the type to lie? Is he just trying to get in my pants or is he honest?” It could all just be a bunch of pretty words. He’s a famous, gorgeous man. There’s no way he’s being honest. “Wanted to be a ballerina, yeah right. God that’s-there’s no way that’s real. There’s no way.” 

And yet...

She couldn’t bring herself to throw it away. It was just a lot of beautiful words, and she’s never gotten letters like this before.

She got up, got a pen and paper, and started to write her own letter.

_Dear Mr. Hargreeves,_

_I am putting my home address on this envelope, but know that I have a gun and am registered to use it so if you attempt to come to my home, I will shoot you._

_To answer your questions: yes I am taking care of myself, thank you for the concern. No, you cannot send me flowers. It would make me uncomfortable, even if they were sent anonymously. But, I appreciate that you think I deserve them._

_I have a few questions of my own. First, why did you start writing to me? Did you really want to be a ballerina when you were younger, or did you just make that story up?_

_What are you getting out of this? Is it some weird sexual fetish for you? You’re not going to masturbate over this letter, are you? If you are I’ll have to shoot you._

_You may continue writing me letters and supporting my career, but I need answers to those questions._

_From,_

_Eudora Patch_

She got an envelope and sealed the letter, carefully copying Diego’s address down.

Hopefully she’d get answers.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first AU I’ve ever really written so comments would be appreciated!


End file.
